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I
remember as a resident doctor doing post-graduation in obstetrics and
gynecology there was this lady senior consultant of ours who always had her
anger on the tip of her nose. We all
used to be terrified of her and many would run helter-skelter on seeing her. Once while I was doing some post-operative
routine work in the wards I heard a big commotion near the operation theater
door. She was shouting at the top of her voice. Inquisitively, I went closer to
find an old man standing in front of her trembling and with folded hands as if
pleading for mercy. She was blasting him. It seems she on coming out of the
operation theater on finishing some difficult surgery saw something
unsavory. There were beedi (a thin, Indian cigarette filled with tobacco
flake and wrapped in a tendu leaf tied with a string at one end) stubs littered
all around plump near the door of the Operation Theater. I did not need a
minute to understand what must have happened. The man must be smoking those
stuffs …